


Wherever Her Petals May Fall

by HumbleNachos412



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Angst, F/M, Friendship, Romance, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-08
Updated: 2019-10-31
Packaged: 2019-11-13 19:08:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 9
Words: 20,488
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18037145
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HumbleNachos412/pseuds/HumbleNachos412
Summary: Aria Trevelyan was content with her sedated life. She was the daughter of a devout and prestigious family, but bared the scandal of being a mage, nevertheless she's learned how to wield the cards she's been dealt with. After the Conclave, however, with her emerging as the sole survivor, she discovers that the Maker had a different role for her to take. One where she makes choices she didn't want to make, and truths she never wanted to face.





	1. Chapter 1

It was all a mess. Just one big blighted mess. All of it.

The lake had been frozen solid, and so did her thighs. She didn’t care about her thighs.  Right now, she needed a plan. The Senior Enchantor had sent her to the Conclave to ally with its decision, which according to the Seeker, was the Inquisition. A resistance to the war, as it seems. But this was unacceptable, she was being tasked to help lead it. 

No.

She is a mage, she was not made for scouting or recruiting or closing tears in the veil with unknown magic. But as it stands, her options are limited.  It was either this or be hunted down by Chantry clerics. And while she doubted they were brave enough to get their hands dirty, clerics weren’t the only ones loyal to the late Divine.

There was a third option. That is, she could run away and escape all this. It would be easy to learn the routines of the soldiers. They revere her well-enough, and with a few sweet words, a chuckle here and there, tongues will surely come loose. That course of action although possible, was ultimately foolish.

Where would she run? Back to Ostwick? That’s the first place anyone would look for her. Besides, even if her brother allowed her back to the manor, she didn't want to complicate things. Especially after the uprising of the Templars in her Circle.

She could try Orlais, the Ambassador mentioned something about favoring mages of noble bloodline there. But then, she doesn’t know enough about Orlais to hide or even survive there. Running is out of the question, there’s a hole in the sky only she could close, and even she’s not that heartless.

But save the world? Even she wasn’t that arrogant. She could barely save her slice of potato from falling off the spoon this morning.

It didn't matter where she would run off to, as long as she had a glowing hand, she had a target on her back.

Leliana, with a spiteful voice, asked her what Andraste thought of all this. She’d like to know the answer to that too. But so far, she’s received no reply. The Maker demands our lives and deaths, an ultimatum to the story. The revered mothers in the Chantry would always repeat those words to her. But standing here now, how could she possibly bring herself to do that?

Aria stood, sipped her now-cold tea and decided to head back inside. “You there!” the commander’s voice cut through the cold and open air. He shook his head disapprovingly, “You’re grip is too strong, again, do it again.”

Now there’s a man fit for leadership. He’s authoritative and brimming with conviction. They are not made of the same things. But if they need a face for their revolution, she’ll supply them with it, better opportunities will surely present themselves at a later point.

She just needed to wait.

Aria brought herself out of her thoughts when she realized the Commander had returned her gaze with a questioning look of his own. She merely brushed it off with a smile and continued on her way. She climbed the steps and headed to her cabin when an elf had stopped her.

“My Lady Herald” she heard as soon as she made it up the stairs. It was the petrified elf she woke up to just this morning.

“Ah, it’s you” she smiled, “It’s Ellyn, yes? The tea is excellent, thank you.”

She beamed, “Thank you, my lady. I’ve come to deliver a message from Lady Josephine,” she said. “She wishes to see you in her office, at your earliest convenience.”

Aria nodded, “I see,” she replied before finished the last of her tea.

“Shall I take that from you?” she asked, eyeing the mug in her hand.

She handed her the empty mug, “Yes, thank you. I’ll be on my way, then.” Ellyn bowed her head before scurrying off. Aria gave the cabin that promised her rest and isolation one more look before heading to the Chantry.

As she neared the chantry, a hissing voice greeted her. “Ah, and so the Herald of Andraste returns,” Chancellor Roderick spat, as he walked with failed swagger over to her.

She swallowed her sigh, along with the urge to roll her eyes. “A pleasant afternoon to you as well, ser,” she replied calmly.

“It’s Chancellor to you, prisoner. I know what you are,” he spat. “The gall! Calling a murderer the Herald of Andraste, blasphemers all of you!” he shouted, taking a step closer. “Tainting the name of the Sacred Andraste, I shall revel the day the Maker brings judgement upon your crimes.”

 _With a mouth like yours, it’s a wonder how you’re a chancellor._ Aria silenced her thoughts. She needn’t make any further conflicts than she has to. “I will gladly answer for the crimes I’ve committed, but so far, I’ve done nothing that merits a hanging. I pray that one day you’ll believe so, as well.” The glare he sent her way told Aria, her words had changed nothing. “I have business with the Lady Ambassador, so please excuse me.” With that, she leaves him muttering under his breath.

When she entered the ambassador’s office, she was surprised to see the Spymaster there. “Lady Herald,” the ambassador greeted.

“I understand the public addressing me so, but please, Aria when it’s just us,” to which the two of them agreed. Aria took a seat by the desk, “You wanted to see me?”

“I would just like to know if there is anything specific we should know about you. Allergies perhaps, or preferred food? Anything you can think of that may affect the expedition,” the ambassador said with the quill in her hand, ready to jot down words.

“Preferred food?” Aria repeated in surprise “I wasn’t aware chantry-labelled heretics had the luxury for such.”

Leliana chuckled, placing her hands behind her back. “The chancellor has been quite vocal about his protest.”

Aria crossed her legs, “Chancellor? Do you mean Chancellor Roderick?” she asked, “I’d be lying if I said I was surprised.”

“Oh,” Leliana replied with a tone of intrigue, “I see you’ve continued to make his acquaintance.”

A sly grin graced Aria’s lips, “Of course. In fact, just earlier he called me a murderer, a blasphemer and continued to demand my execution. I’d say our friendship is boding well.”

“Be that as it may, we do have influence with sympathizers to the cause,” A box containing rusted and burnt trinkets, sat next to the table Minaeve’s table, catching Aria’s attention. “Most of them with the late Divine, and they’ve offered what help they can,” the raven haired woman explained.

“I see,” she replied to acknowledge the ambassador’s words as she walked over to the box. Aria crouched down by the box. “These are?” she turned to the other two ladies.

“We found them while scouting the ruins,” answered Leliana. “They may hold some significance to some of the survivors here at Haven.” Aria nodded and rummaged through the items. “Pardon me, Herald, but are you perhaps looking for this?”

Aria turned to look and in the Spymaster’s hand was a golden pocket watch. It had more scratches but the heralding on the front had remained. It was a horse standing proud over a cliff. Strong winds were blowing its strong mane. Nostalgia flashed over her downcast eyes, grey and distant.

She nodded, and Leliana surrendered it into her hands. “With everything that’s happened, I didn’t think I’d see this again,” her chuckle almost felt forced.

“We found it in your pocket, but we had to remove it when we had you…chained,” she explained.

Again, she nodded, and gave them a low chuckle. “Do you recognize this?” Aria turned the item over to show them.

“House Trevelyan,” answered Josephine with ease.

Aria turned her attention back to the items and rummaged through them “When you’re sent to the Circle, you cannot bring anything with you. Just clothes for 3 days until they can get you a robe.” She took a ring, held it up in the candle light, and shook her head before returning it.  She smirked “Marchers always have problems with authority, I suppose. Thank you for retrieving my watch, I thought I lost it.”

She took a deep breath, and returned to the matter at hand. “Regarding the food, nothing comes to mind other than my dislike for peanuts and kale. Although, you should know that I have weak stamina for travel.” She hangs the watch onto her neck, and tucks it into her tunic. “I will most probably hinder the group’s advancement.”

“All the more reason to speak to Redcliffe’s horse master then,” added Josephine.

“True enough, if that is all?” the two of them shared a significant look before they nodded. “Good day Lady Montilyet, Sister Leliana,” she said before finally leaving the room.

She couldn’t help but let out another sigh as she closed the door behind her. As she crossed the length of the dusty hall, she paused halfway when a yelp of pain called her attention. A young woman had burned herself lighting a candle by the statue of the Blessed Andraste. She hissed and waved her hand frantically.

Aria trotted up to her. “Allow me,” she told her and took her hand to cast a simple healing spell over it. The burn wasn’t severe, but it would definitely produce a painful blister without aid. “Please be more careful.”

The young woman marvelled at her. “Oh Maker, you’re her. You’re the Herald of Andraste,” she said

From her posture, Aria could tell that she was neither a scout nor a soldier. And from the number of calluses and cuts on her fingers, she couldn’t be one of Josephine’s messengers either. “I don’t know what work you do serah, but I know you’ll need your hands for it,” she replied.

“I’m Flissa, your worship,” she said with a bow. “Sister Leliana said that the soldiers need a place to unwind, so she asked me to manage the Singing Maiden tavern.” Flissa couldn’t seem to figure out where to put her hands. She fidgeted her fingers together in front, before grabbing her skirts. “I… It’s quite the honour to serve the Inquisition however I can. Oh! And not to worry, your worship, although I’m not there right now, someone—“

Aria waved a hand. “Flissa,” she began, “Calm down, I’m not reprimanding you for lighting a few candles and taking time to yourself.”

The words gave her relief. “Thank you, your worship. My sister lived in Redcliffe, and I’ve not hear news from her for weeks now. I hear you’re travelling to the Hinterlands, I hope you find her there—of course, you have to focus on the Inquisition’s  needs first—” Flissa paused and took a breath, “I…I’ll excuse myself, Your Worship.” She lowered her face; she was red up to her ears.

“Go ahead. Have a healer take a look at your hand, magic isn’t everything.” She nodded before hurriedly walking out of the Chantry.

Aria turned to face the statue. The Bride of the Maker with her perfectly fair and chiselled face returned Aria’s searching gaze. Worshippers look at this and see grace and the same kindness one would see from a caring mother. Aria was one of them. But that day, Andraste had a distant, almost wry expression about her.

 _Herald of Andraste,_ she repeated as she took a lighting stick and lit a candle of her own. Mages mustn’t light candles with their magic, it was disrespectful, she was told. _Herald of Andraste,_ she said a second time.

She never questioned that practice, but if she were the Herald of Andraste, must she suffer the same fate.

 _Let the blade pass through the flesh, Let my blood touch the ground, let my cries touch their hearts. Let mine be the last sacrifice_. - Andraste 7:12

Aria turned away and left.


	2. Chapter 2

Cullen wouldn’t have been surprised to find if the Herald despised him. She was a mage, and rumors had reached him that Ostwick Circle was a sedated life because the Templars were borderline, tyrannous. If she didn’t despise him, he thought she’d be wary of him at least. 

He was quite relieved to find that it wasn’t the case. Leliana has expressed her caution, although she was cautious with everyone. It was probably due to the way she kept to herself. In the days that they prepared for the expedition to the Hinterlands, he’d see her walking about with a book in hand, or having a conversation with Solas or Varric.

She seemed cooperative enough, he thought, if not pleasant. When asked of her background, she answered without pause. She is the first daughter of Bann Trevelyan, before she was sent to the Circle. Her senior enchanter sent her to the Conclave as a representative of her Circle, while the former stayed to keep the peace. And as they presented her with the tasks as well as the challenges she’ll be facing in the Hinterlands, she merely nodded and said she’d get them done. 

He remembered passing by her cabin well into the night, yesterday. Her candles were still lit, and her silhouette was on the curtain of her window. A gust of wind had swept in and the curtain revealed her to be reading a book on her bed. He saw her sigh, open the curtains and shut the windows.

The next cold and crisp morning Haven brought, he saw her again. As he walked down the steps leading out of Haven, she was walking in. Strangely enough, she was covered in sweat, and blotches of ash and dirt stained her pale skin, as she clutched the golden pocket watch hanging on her neck.

The interaction had been incredibly brief. “Herald, good morning,” he greeted.

She paused, and looked up to meet his gaze. She was clearly surprised, “Ah, likewise, commander,” she smiled before brushing past him, and retreating to her cabin once more.

Cullen shook his head of unnecessary thoughts, he had recruits to train and reports to both read and write. Such trivialities extend beyond his duties.

“Commander,” his lieutenant called out, diverting his attention from his unprofessional thoughts. “You wanted a copy of Scout Harding’s report?” the young man held it out towards him and he takes it. 

“Well done, that will be all,” he replied. The soldier saluted before he left.

Cullen gave the recruits training in front of him a passing glance, before he averted his eyes down to the report he held. He didn’t pause in reading until the subtle  scent of flowers, wood oil, and something he couldn’t quite name tickled his nose.

It had been his only warning, before he noticed the Herald right beside him. He almost jumped back, if his training had not caught him and steeled his feet into place. “Oh,” she said when she saw him flinch “My apologies, I didn't mean to surprise you. I heard the lieutenant say Scout Harding’s report,” she paused before smiling. “I’d like to see what I’ll be facing, if that’s allowed.” 

It took him a few beats for her request to register, before he finally came up with an answer. “Yes, of course,” he responded a bit too quickly. Her eyes wandered down to the report in his hand, and she read it quietly. His eyes meanwhile couldn’t help but wander off from the words of Scout Harding, and towards the delicate features of the Herald’s face. “Looks like the Hinterlands are in far more trouble than I was told,” she said, making Cullen’s eyes revert to the report.

“Indeed,” he replied, despite having only read a few sentences. Why were you covered in ash and dust this morning? He wanted to ask, but instead he asks, “How are you feeling Herald?”

She took a step back. “Better,” she replied with a confident smile, and he believed her. A few days of food and rest had given her back the colour of her warm ivory face. She should be fully abled by the time they depart for their expedition. 

“Those are?” he asked and nodded to the small crate she held between her arm and hips.

Aria followed his gaze and with her marked hand, she takes out the herbs. “The healers told me they were short on supplies, I thought I’d help them. If there’s one thing I know about being a healer, it’s that one can never have too much elfroot.” He tried his best not to sigh, how undermanned were they for the Herald herself to gather herbs for them. “Do you want to touch it?” she asked.

He paused, brows drawing in confusion, “What?”

“The mark,” she replied, putting the herb back into the box, before showing him the mark. It glistened faintly from under her gloved hand. “Everyone looks at it, like they want to. I always offer it, but they always refuse.”

“No doubt they thought you’d be offended,” he said, “Or perhaps hurt.”

She rolled her eyes, “If I didn’t want them touching it, I’d never have offered. The worker’s children are much more honest though, I let them touch it, but some of them press on it, that’s when it truly does hurt. ” She gave him a sideway glance, “Are you sure you don’t want to touch it? From what those reports said, I’ll be spending quite a lot of time in the Hinterlands.  This will be your chance, my only condition is that you don’t press your fingers on it .”

Cullen straightened, “I’m sure,” he replied. A yelp and the familiar sound of metal dropping to the soil, called their attentions. Cullen narrowed his eyes at the recruit who dropped his sword, “You gripped it tightly yesterday, and now it’s far too loose. Lieutenant,” he called, and he needn’t say anything else, before the poor recruit was shown the proper way.

“It looks like you’ve got your work cut out for you, commander,” she remarked, amused.

“We’ve received a number of recruits—locals from haven, and some pilgrims,” he said, “None made quite the entrance you did.”

“It’s one of my redeeming qualities,” she smiled slightly. “What of you, commander? Did the Seeker drag you here in chains and ordered you to command the army?”

Cullen snorted and knew she was referring to Varric’s experience. “Fortunately not, I was recruited to the Inquisition in Kirkwall,” he paused and gestured for her to follow him. “I was there during the mage uprising—I saw first-hand the devastation it caused.” A soldier trailed behind them with a report. “Cassandra sought a solution. When she offered me a position, I left the Templars to join her cause.” He paused in walking and turned his frame to face her, as he was handed the report. “Now it seems we face something far worse.”

“Yes, well,” she said, scratching her reddened nose, “Things are certainly not ideal.”

Cullen skimmed over the words on the paper, before signing it. “Which is why we’re needed, the Chantry lost control of both Templars and mages. Now they argue over a new Divine, while the Breach remains.” He hands the report back and continues, “The Inquisition can act where the Chantry cannot. Our followers would be part of that. There’s so much we can—“he paused, realizing he was getting ahead of himself.

“You really believe that commander?”

“Of course, that’s why I joined the Inquisition,” he confidently answered. “And why your expedition in the Hinterlands is important. But forgive me, I doubt you came here for a lecture,” he said, tone and volume lowering themselves. 

Aria blinked twice, before smiling warmly. “I see, how admirable,” she said.

“You don’t believe the same?” he asked.

“I do,” she answered and looked towards the sparring recruits. “Stabilizing the situation in the Hinterlands would indeed be helpful to the cause. After all,” she turned to him, “Success begins with small victories.” She had to admit, his enthusiasm was quite refreshing. “As for the lectures, well, they’re certainly not unwelcome,” she replied with half a smile.

“Another time, perhaps,” he said with a chuckle. A beat passed between them and Aria waited for his next words. His eyes shot down for half a moment, with faint meekness, before meeting hers once more. “I…ah, there’s still a lot of work ahead.”

Aria nearly rolled her eyes, she couldn’t deny that. Judging from that report, stabilizing the area and recruiting allies was easier said than done. She intends to work her pay, either way…wait, was she receiving compensation for this?

“Commander!” one of the men called, “Ser Rylen has a report on our supply lines.”

Cullen looked back to the Herald, “I shall pray for your success, as well as your safety.”

She nodded. “I’ll try my best.” Her tone didn’t quite match her words. It sounded rather dry and rather empty. But Cullen didn’t have time to entertain such thoughts, there is work to be done.

=

He was there when the party prepared to leave for the Hinterlands. Cassandra was beside him as they spoke about further details that may help them there. But she had lost him at supplies runs when the Herald walked out of Haven’s gates, beside her was Solas. 

Cassandra paused in her speech when she saw them approaching.

“…and you’re certain of that?” Aria asked Solas as she began braiding her hair to the side of her face. “Because the last time I did so, I almost electrocuted myself. It was not pleasant,” she stopped in front of them.

Solas, seeing that they needed a word with her, smiled and replied, “Executed properly, yes,” he confirmed with a nod, before walking odd.

Aria’s grimaced, “That does not comfort me” she replied but the elf said nothing more and left them to talk. Aria shook her head before turning her attention to the warriors in front of her. “Are we ready?” she asked.

Cassandra gave her a confident nod. “As much as we could be, are you?”

She smiled sheepishly in turn. “I reckon you wouldn’t stop this expedition unless there was another mountain-flattening explosion,” the bitter words came with a careless smile. The jest was given no response, and she flinched “Too soon perhaps?”

“Definitely,” Varric answered with a snort.

“My apologies,” she briefly said, before walking past them and over to her chestnut horse. “Let’s get this over with,” she said with a slight groan, before pulling herself up to mount. “The sooner we leave, the sooner we return. Maker, I hope it’s not too sunny in the Hinterlands.”


	3. Chapter 3

Varric couldn’t help but draw parallel lines between Kirkwall, and The Hinterlands. There was infighting between Templars and mages, locals with nothing to do with it running about, and everything around them either frozen or burning. And here he was, tossed in the middle of it. Again.

Cassandra was the one to stake the flag by the crossroads, giving what assurance it may that the Inquisition will guard the land. Even with their presence and the lack of rebels about, morale was low. The fact that their lands are slowly succumbing to poverty and chaos were taking a toll, to even the children. And, with the locals losing their homes, the refugee camps were running short of even the most basic commodities.  The Seeker strongly recommended the clearing of the rebel hideouts immediately, but The Herald disagreed. 

From the sidelines, Varric watched from his seat by the fire as she knelt next to an injured child. She set her staff down next to her and gave the little girl a warm smile. Earlier this morning, the four of them had taken time to restock the camps with food and herbs. Cassandra radiated with disapproval the entirety of the time. By the time they returned, the sun was nearly setting, Aria has been speaking to the locals since, and was even helping the healers with their work.

The young girl laughed, as the Herald healed her bruised arm. The dark spot immediately disappeared. “That’s amazing!” she exclaimed, clapping her hands.

“Claire, careful not to rip your stitches,” scolded her mother immediately.

The Herald patted Claire’s blonde hair gently, “Ah, I’m sure she’ll recover from that quickly too. But you’re mother’s right little doe, there’s no reason to rush.”

Claire took the Herald’s hand away and held it, “You’ll make the bad rebels go away won’t you?” her green eyes lighting up as she looked up at her. “My cat’s probably waiting for me. I tried to get him before we left, but I couldn’t find him.” 

Aria looked over to Claire’s mother whose face had fallen grim. Aria did not reciprocate the same expression. Instead she chuckled and returned her gaze to the young child. “The Inquisition will clear out the bad rebels for you, but after that we’ll need your help to rebuild, so you should heal up so you can help out. Yes?”

Claire nodded. “Yes,” she affirmed.

Aria looked at her pleased, before turning her attention to the mother. Gently, Aria settled her palm on the weary-faced woman. This time, Aria’s smile was warm, and soft “Don’t fret my lady. She’s a brave a girl. She grew up with a brave mother, after all.”

Tears welled up in the woman’s eyes, but she refused to let them fall. “Thank you, Herald,” she replied. “The Maker smiled on us today,” she sobbed.

“Keep faith, my lady,” Aria took her staff and stood. “The Inquisition stands for people like you, always.”

Varric didn’t bother hiding his smirk. She certainly knows her words he thought to himself, the Inquisition needed good publicity after all.

As she approached their fire, the warm expression began to fade away as her façade fell. A sigh escaped her lips, while the Seeker gave her a glare. “Careful,” she warned when she noticed the Seeker’s glare, “Your face will stick that way if you keep doing that.”

Varric gave a short laugh. “Too late” he inserted, which earned him an even sharper glare.

“Well,” began the Seeker when Aria settled into the seat next to Solas. “Are you satisfied with how our time was wasted today?”

The air grew tense and sour, Solas quickly sensed it, and stood, wanting to take no part in the inevitable turn of events. “Please see me before you retire for the night concerning your mark.” When Aria nodded, Solas plucked his staff from the ground and left the scene.

Aria gave no reply for the Seeker, and gave herself a serving of dinner. This irked the Seeker even more. “We could’ve spent the day looking for the rebel hideouts. Instead, we spent it frolicking about in the woods.” Cassandra flashed her teeth too sharply for a smile. Aria remained silent, eating her food. “Trevelyan, answer me,” she barked.

The bitter tone of the Seeker finally made Aria pause, and lower her bowl. “We frolicked in the woods today, because finding the encampments would take time, and the locals haven’t eaten in days.” She calmly explained “In other terms, we were helping them, which is what you all have instructed me to do along with a mountain pile of others,” she jabbed at the Seeker.

“We have soldiers here that can help them with that,” she argued. “If you wanted to help them, we can rid them of the rebel mages in the area,” she said.

Aria looked at her with a piercing glare that rivaled the Seeker’s. “I assume the rebel Templars are a given as well,” she said, her voice implying something Aria noticed when they first arrived to stop the infighting. 

A heavy silence fell upon them, before the Seeker broke her gaze and stood. “Do as you please,” she snapped and stomped off.

Aria sighed as she watched Cassandra disappear into her tent. .“She’s a hard one to please” she says under her breath, before taking another spoonful of the stew. 

Perhaps it hadn’t been the best way to phrase her side, but she will only apologize for the hostility, nothing else. Still, she hoped the argument won’t escalate to affect their performance on the battlefield. They have enough things to worry about.

Across from her, Varric chuckled. “We’ve been travelling for a week now Grace, and you’ve only realized that now.”

Aria did not spare the dwarf a glance as she spoke, “At least you’ve stopped calling me Herald.” 

“It’s a nickname,” Varric clarified.

She disagreed. “Darling, little duck, princess, those are nicknames.”

“Not ones that suit you,” he replied. 

Aria tilted her head in question “And you’ve decided Grace suits me better than Aria?” she almost scoffed. “Please elaborate,” she said.

Varric shrugged, “You remind me of a card game I think you’d be good at.”

The dwarf had been watching her since early in the afternoon, she had paid it no heed. Everyone was watching her, and her glowing hand like some exotic animal from Orlais. She had paid them no heed just the same, or for the most part, tried to. “I don’t gamble,” was the only reply she could give him to feign innocence.

Varric didn’t buy into her poor attempt to do so. “Not with cards you don’t.”

Aria yielded her innocence, and chuckled, “All kinds of impressive indeed.” 

“So what is this to you then?” he asked, no hint of prejudice in his voice.

She shrugged, “We have our roles to play in the Inquisition, and I plan to do what I am asked to. That is all.” Aria then stood, “Besides, Solas said it himself, posturing is necessary.”

“You don’t need to tell me,” said Varric, much to her satisfaction. “Still,” Varric continued, “You might want to consider running at the first opportunity you get. I’ve written enough tragedies to recognize where this is going. Heroes are everywhere,, I’ve seen that. But the hole in the sky? That’s gonna take more than heroes, we’re gonna need a miracle.”

Aria offered half a smile, “One thing at a time, Varric,” she said. “I have to leave, Solas is waiting to stare longingly at my hand again. “Quite romantic really,” she added.

=

Aria tossed and turned in her bedroll. She had finished an entire book already, but still her mind won’t let her drift to sleep. They had travelled here in hopes to stabilize the area. It was easier said than done, the day ended with more problems than when it had started. She gave the locals some supply and some food, but if the Inquisition

She sighed and sat up. There were never these many things to do in the Circle. Mostly it was just water the plants and teach the new mages how not to burn their eyebrows. 

Outside her tent, heavy boots crushed dried leaves with every step. Aria dismissed it as a patrolling guard, but when it paused at the entrance and kept silent, she reached for her hunting knife. Was it a spy, or hired blade that infiltrated the ranks? 

“Herald,” The Seekers rough voice called out, “Are you awake? We need to talk.”

Suddenly, Aria wished for it to be a hired blade instead. “Give me a moment,” she replied. Aria wore her boots, and sheathed her knife before tucking it into her waistband. When she exited, she saw The Seeker standing dressed only in her tunic and trousers. Neither her armour nor sword was in sight. 

Cassandra led her away from camp, and near the lake where a bit of privacy could be allowed. “What did you need to talk about?” asked Aria and for a single paranoid moment, she thought she was brought here to be silenced. Cassandra could no doubt overpower her with her bare hands.

“I wanted to apologize for my behavior earlier,” she said. “When we came here, I had the sole intention of rooting out the rebels, perhaps they had answers to what happened in the Conclave. I thought little of anything else. It was a brash decision perhaps, but I thought it to be the best.” Cassandra turned away from the water to look at Aria. “But what you did was right. The Inquisition exists to help people like them.”

Aria nodded. “Thank you for saying that. I would like to apologize as well. You told me your trainers called you brash, well, mine called me solitary. I’m not used to working with groups, not for anything this much responsibility. We may not always agree,” she paused and smiled, “But we should treat each other in manner that’s...”

“Less antagonic?” she guessed.

Aria chuckled and agreed. “In the Circle, it didn’t really matter if you decide to work on the tasks alone and follow your own methods. I’m learning that the same could not be said for this.” Aria met the Seeker’s resolute gaze, “I’m sorry for treating you with such hostility. As difficult as it may be for us both. I know we wish nothing but the Inquisition’s success, and so I hope we can push past this and cooperate.”

Aria held out her hand, and Cassandra took it without hesitation. “Agreed,” she said with a rare smile. “Well then, we have another long day tomorrow. It would do us some good to retire for the night.” 

“Sleep well, Cassandra,” she replied before brushing past her to head back into her tent, where hopefully, instead of Solas or Varric, or even a soldier, sleep would come visit her. And if Maker was willing, He’d let Andraste come visit her and explain this shit-show.


	4. Chapter 4

_Inquisition leaders,_

_As Cassandra directed of me earlier this morning, I should write to you about our progress in the Hinterlands. I don’t see the point, since she does the same things. Nevertheless, I’d rather we didn’t argue about such trivial things. Knowing the candor of our beloved Seeker, she has no doubt told you about our little strife a few days before. It’s been resolved now, we’re on speaking terms._

_Moving on, prior reports concerning The Hinterlands pale in comparison to its reality, it is an ultimately horrid place to be in. It’s a shame, the weather is lovely. Upon our arrival, I decided to prioritize resupplying the locals before we waged war against the rebels. The presence of the Inquisition has raised morale, and we’ve done our part to present our cause well enough for sympathizers. The rebel situation is subdued well-enough that we don’t need to go hunting and raiding hidden supply caches for them anymore._

_On that note, I have a recruit for Sister Leliana. She should be on her way with a wounded party, he has a few conditions before he pledges service to the cause, I’ll discuss it upon arrival. In the meanwhile he gave us a few horses,  which made travel convenient._

_If you want an update concerning my conversation with Mother Giselle, I suggest you refer to Cassandra’s letter. I can only say that Sister Leliana was right to say that she was a sensible sort. I personally like her._

_We will be staying here for a few more weeks, there’re a lot of things to be done here. If you have complaints from Cassandra that I waste my time on tedious tasks, I’ll be the first to say, no, I don’t always go out of my way to help, however, if you want to expand the Inquisition’s reputation, townsfolk tales spread like wildfire._

_P.S. I’ve been assured by Solas that the unnatural number of bears, prowling about has nothing to do with the breach or the fade rifts. Are we sure of this? Because I’m not entirely convinced._

_With regards,_

Aria Marie Deanne Augustine Trevelyan

(I used to be a nobleman’s daughter, and we just love our lengthy names)

#

The party in the Hinterlands spent 5 weeks trying to stabilize the area, and though they still had several other matters to attend to, Aria returned. Several matters needed the approval of her fellow leaders. They managed to restore some form of order there, it should remain fixed for the next couple of weeks.

At nine in the morning, the horn sounded they’re arrival. The party approached, with the Herald riding her steed behind a few soldiers. His recruits paused as they watched her arrival. The sun and air in the Hinterlands did her some good. Solas got down from his horse and immediately walked over to the Herald’s.

Solas extended his arms, and Aria gave him a glance before taking a deep breath. Solas said something Cullen couldn’t hear. Aria gave a reply and the elf nodded. Aria chuckled and took hold of his shoulders. “Ready?” Cullen heard Solas ask as he approached.

“This is both inconvenient and embarrassing,” she mumbled before nodding. Cautiously, Solas helped her unmount her horse. She grimaced as she landed on the ground. “Thank you” she told him.

“Are you alright Herald?” asked Cullen. “The reports said you were still injured.”

Aria smiled at his concern. “An exaggeration, I’m perfectly able ,” she answered as Cassandra came up behind her “We have more important matters—“Cassandra glared and struck her side “—Holy Bride of The Maker!” she coughed and doubled over. Cullen almost flinched, he knew exactly what a blow from Cassandra felt like.

“Healers first, the meeting can wait,” Cassandra said sternly.

Aria nodded without protest and walked off with the help of her staff, and a hand over her side. A moment later an elf came running to help her, but she politely shook her head. “How bad is it?” Cullen asked.

The Seeker shook her head. “She’s a mage, yet she fights recklessly.”

“Well, she’s no soldier,” Cullen remarked.

Cassandra began walking inside, and Cullen followed in stride, “In the Circle, her focus was not offensive magic, but Solas told me she has a gift for it.” She stops by the training recruits “At the very least, someone ought to teach her how to wield a dagger.”

Cullen arched a brow. “Are you asking me to teach her?”

“No,” she says, much to his relief. “You’ve enough work, I shall do it,” Cassandra sighed.  “Let’s hope it stops her from thinking her staff can take a charging shield.”

“Does she really?” he tried not to look _too_ horrified.

“You may ask Varric for details.” She shifts her weight in one foot and crossed her arms “I suppose we cannot blame her, she’s had a sheltered life.” And he knew, Cassandra would know all about having a sheltered life. She drops her hands to the side, “I have things to discuss with Leliana, and we’ll have plenty of things to discuss in the war room.”

With that, Cassandra leaves the scene, and Cullen turns to his recruits, where yet again, he was presented with another report to read.

#

Adan was clearly displeased. More than usual, she could tell. While she unbuttoned her tunic, and he focused on the bandages wrapped around her upper chest and shoulder, Aria couldn’t find it in herself to meet his scrutinizing gaze. He crossed his arms over his chest. “You want to tell me what happened?”

“Do I have the option of saying no?” she meekly asked. He shook his head, and she sighed “Right, well, my barrier didn’t hold.” Adan remained silent, waiting for the rest of her explanation. “And a shield knocked me down a… well, a small cliff.”

“You fell over a cliff?” he repeated.

“A small cliff,” she corrected.

He grunted before turning to a healer. “Change her bandages,” he commanded, before stepping forward, and pressing his fingers on her shoulder, tracing it down her arm. Her breath hitched when he grazed over the dislocated joint. “Swelling isn't bad, healed it yourself?” she nodded, “Well, don’t rush it. Maybe three or four days, goes without saying but no heavy-lifting.”

She clicked her tongue. “What a shame, here I thought I’d finally take up sword fighting.” Adan rewarded her sarcasm as he always does, with a roll of the eyes. He walked away, and Aria chuckled.

The healer that approached her settled down on one of the stools by her chair. She was young, no more than 20, she bet. She had a lovely face, thin lips and a strong nose. “Pardon me, Herald,” she softly said before taking hold of some shears and began snipping the bandages off.

After Aria ate her lunch, and threw out all the kale in her soup, she knew she should rest. But rest was nowhere to be found, not with the notion of kicking a hornet’s nest, also known as the clerics in Val Royeaux, haunted her thoughts.

And now here she was hiking up the mountain leading to the remains of the Temple of Sacred Ashes.

She should be careful with her approach. A stern and aggressive front might portray her as a tyrant, and scare off any potential sympathizers to the cause, as well as new recruits. An emotional plea might present them as weak, and no one wants puts their faith on helpless movements. The Inquisition needs to be presented as solution that needs to be her main goal.

The scouts and soldiers have done all they can to remove the burnt bodies, but some of them remained. They couldn’t carry these down the mountain, lest the bodies turn to dust. The scent of blood has gone, now only ash and dust and snow remain.

A whisper caressing the back of her brain, that she could’ve had the same fate as these corpses. And yet, she didn’t. _She_ didn’t, and not the Divine, just a mage who happened to be of noble descent.

 _Half a noble descent_ , the villainous voice said.

“Herald,” a voice snapped her out of her thoughts. “I beg your pardon my lady, but this area has been declared off-limits to everyone.” The soldier stared back at her, no doubt trying to figure out how she managed to slip past them.

“I see,” she answered. “My apologies, soldier,” she said and brushed past him.

“S-shall I have someone escort you back, my lady?”

Without sparing him a glance over her shoulder she waves a hand to dismiss it. “I got up here just fine by myself, I can do the same going down,” she answered.

Instinctively, her hand reached for the chain around her neck. She pulls out her watch and clicked it open. The cracked glass and still hands of the watch stared back at her. Hopefully commerce in Orlais would allow her to have the watch repaired. Hopefully she would have time to—

Aria had to pause. Someone was following her. She sighed, “I told you already soldier,” she said as she paused and turned, “I don’t need an escort back.” The trees behind her answered with silence. There was no soldier to be found, but after a week in the Hinterlands, she’s learned to distinguish wind rustling the leaves, and footsteps crunching the ground beneath it. “Come out, now,” she demanded.

Again, there was silence. Was it another hired blade? She didn’t have her staff. She didn’t need it, but she won’t be able to moderate the spell. Aria drew her hunting knife from her belt. “This is your final warning, Come. Out.” There was no reply, “Fine,” she sighed. “Then I reckon you’re fine escaping a burning forest. I wish you lu—“

“Wait!” the spy shouted, before finally revealing themselves. “Please, Your Worship, mercy,” she pleaded.

If only she knew that Aria had no intention of burning the whole forest. That would require a massive amount of time and mana. Frozen trees don’t catch fire as quickly. Not to mention the scolding she’d get from the Seeker, which alone already made the whole idea unappealing.

“Ritts?” she almost growled, as she sheathed her knife. “What are you doing?” A wave of realization came over Aria, and she knew who gave the order. Aria sighed and rolled her eyes.

“My lady?” Ritts called out before Aria shook her head and swept past her.

She jogged the remaining steps of the pathway and strode across the field of training recruits. Ignoring the inquisitive eyes of the Commander, she entered the gates of Haven and immediately headed for the tent that the Inquisition Spymaster used as her office.

There Leliana stood with a scroll of paper in her hands. She looked up and hid the paper in her cloak, before addressing the Herald. “Did you need something?” she asked.

“If you’ve the time, I’d like to know if you have the names Mother Hannah promised,” she said. “And if possible I’d like to know about them. I’d rather I have every piece of information, before proceeding.”

Leliana nodded. “Yes, of course,” she answered, “I’ll have a report sent to you as soon as possible.”

She was pleased. “Also,” she began, “I feel you should know that Ritts isn’t suited for tailing. She may have a silver tongue, but she’s no good in surveillance.”

If Leliana was surprised with her spy getting exposed, she made no indication. “I’ll keep that in mind.” Her eyes narrowed as she gave Aria a sideway glance. “Does it bother you?”

Aria, without hesitation shook her head. “Are you really asking a circle mage if she minds being watched?” Before the Spymaster could answer, Aria gave a mellifluous laugh. Her hand reached up to her mouth as she leaned slightly forward. “My apologies, you needn’t answer that,” she told her and straightened. “No, I don’t particularly mind it,” she answered.

“You must understand, Herald.” Leliana placed her hands behind her. “My agents serve as a precaution.”

“For me or for you?” Aria questioned.

A beat passed between them. “Both,” Leliana answered. “Although there are those who are wishing for our success, there are also those waiting for us to fail. I won’t have the latter occur by having a lack of information or have any fall on the wrong hands. I’m sorry, Herald, but the agents are staying,” she sternly said.

Aria shrugged. “Rest assured, I don’t particularly care for it,” she said with a nod. “As I said, I’m no stranger to watchful eyes, especially now, that I’m walking about with a glowing hand.” Aria cleared her throat and straightened before shifting in topic. “Now then, you’ll have to excuse me, Lady Montilyet has asked me to appeal to my family for an allegiance to the Inquisition, and so I’ll be in my cabin waiting for that list,” with a final nod, Aria left.

Well, it was true she didn’t mind it, doesn’t mean she liked it. Cautious stares while she practices her spells and mixes the solutions for strong poultices. Quizzical stares when she smiles at the Templars. Quizzical because she had no business smiling at them. She shook her head, such thoughts are what led her fellow mages to rebel, she will not indulge herself in them.

She sighed as she turned the knob of her cabin door open. Besides, she’s had hateful stares from them when she managed to master the spells before anyone could. They were lesser people who couldn’t accept her talent, and therefore, credited her bloodline.

“M’lady!” Ellyn squeaked and abruptly stood from tending to the fireplace. “I’ve placed a fresh cup of tea on the desk for you. Shall I return the books on your desk, my lady?”

Aria eyed the three books she’s yet to finish, sitting on her desk and shook her head, “I’ll do that myself,” she said and hung her cloak before moving to sit on her desk.

“You look tired, m’lady, are you feeling alright?” she asked.

“Do I really? Can’t be helped, there’s too many things to do,” she said, leaning back on her chair. “They told me to rest while I’m injured, but even then, I have letters to write, one of them,” she sighed, “Is to my family.” Aria shook her head, she shouldn’t be telling these things so openly. Especially not to people like her, who look to her for hope.

Ellyn remained silent for a few moments, and just as Aria was about to excuse her, she spoke, “May I ask you a question, Lady Herald?”

“Go ahead.”

“Do you...not get along with your family?” she asked.

Aria’s lips smiled in a way Ellyn found inscrutable, if anything though, she looked distant in those few moments that she rested the side her temple on her hand. “For the most part, either way, it might close more doors than it opens.” Her gaze finally met Ellyn’s, “How about you?”

“Oh,” she frowned, “The only family I’ve ever known are my friends.” Ellyn smiled softly, “The three of us grew up together as servants of a noble here in Ferelden, before we ended up here. Our work’s not as flashy as fighting in the war, but we’ll do our part, the best we can.”

“Good to hear,” she replied, taking a sheet of paper from her drawer, “It must be nice, you and your friends sound like you’ve been through a lot.”

Ellyn nodded eagerly, her elongated ears twitching ever so lightly. “We’re proud to be here and the Inquisition treats us well. I mean, sure the cook may be hard on us, you better not catch her cook looking at you, that just means you’re doing something wrong. Or maybe not, since she’s always glari—”she paused, blushed beet red, and bowed her head. “Pardon me, m’lady, I’ve talked too much.”

“No,” she chuckled, “that’s alright. It’s nice to hear such stories from time to time.” She leaned back on her chair, “these days I’m finding idle chatter more appealing than matters of closing up a giant hole.”

“You’ll succeed, m’lady,” she said. “You’re the Herald of Andraste.”

Aria almost frowned. “You really believe that, do you?”

“Even without you mark, I know you’re trying your best to help. You’re a good sort, you know.” Ellyn gave her a meek smile. “Is there anything else you need?”

Aria shook her head. “No, but thank you,” she said, “For being kind and honest with me.” 

Ellyn nodded and left Aria to her thoughts. The cook must’ve been a fierce lady if chatter amongst the servants was such. The Ostwick manor had a fierce cook as well, never afraid to strike her hand with a ladle when she reached for the sweetened milk on the counter. Never afraid to shove her out of the kitchens when she was busy cooking for the guests.

_Listen here, you. I don’t care if you’re the queen of Antiva or an urchin born in the gutters, the Maker gave you this food and you be grateful you even have any. You’re either eating this or you start being satisfied staying a squirt all your life._

That woman showed her much more affection than her step-mother’s side of the family, ever did.

_She’s just a child, don’t be so hard on her._

_I don’t care! She is not my child! How are you even sure she’s yours?! You’re a fool believing that snake of a woman barging in here and claiming she’s yours._

_Aria is my child, I’ve decided that long ago_

She shook her head of such memories, as she took a sheet of parchment paper and dipped her quill into ink. She hoped she wouldn’t have dreams tonight.


	5. Chapter 5

Aria’s breath fogged up in front of her as she panted with her staff in hand. “You know,” she began, eyeing Solas from the corner of her eye, “You can scowl all you like, that templar isn’t going to leave.”

Once they returned from the Storm Coast, there was little to do in Haven but wait for their departure for Val Royeaux. Aria would have been excited, if only they weren't there to address a murderous mob. she’s only been to Val Royeaux once when she was very young, and she barely remembers it.

For the past three hours, Solas has been helping Aria use offensive spells more efficiently at the other side of the lake, to avoid unwanted injuries to anyone who happened to pass by. Upon catching word of this, the commander insisted that a templar keep watch of them. Solas was clearly not pleased, but wanting to avoid an argument, Aria agreed for the both of them.

Still, the commander could have assigned them a less large and stringent looking Templar. She studied him for a few moments, no doubt Cullen thought him capable. And if anything, she cannot doubt his judgement, in such things.

Especially his swordsmanship. Indeed, she recalls that one morning when she rose before dawn and found him practicing outside his tent. He relinquished the thick fur coat, and his armor, and was clad in 2 layers of a tunic.

The piercing look in his eyes told her that his mind poured the entirety of his focus into his movements. Every swing, sharp, fierce and positively vehement. His feet moved like the steps to a dance without music. She remembered the sudden flutter in her chest before she ended its sweet and brief reign, lest she be reduced to the sort of dewy-eyed village girl laying wild flowers at the feet of Andraste’s statue in the Hinterlands.

Still, she wondered how the commander might defeat this Templar if, for whatever arbitrary reason they cross blades. 

“I am  _ scowling  _ because you’re doing it wrong,” Solas corrected. Aria knew it to be half the truth. “Avoid exerting too much force, you will wear yourself out quickly,” he advised.

Aria nodded and tried once more. Realigning her focus, she felt the familiar thrum of magic seething out from the veil. The thrum gathered onto her hands, it grew restless, searching for an escape, and she channelled. The magic poured out of the staff with a crackle. It whizzed through the air like arrows and hit the tree. Splinters exploding into the air. “Not enough force” she said what he was about to. She grumbled and tightened her grip around her stuff. 

“Your form is good,” he said in a weak attempt to console her.

Aria slumped down on the snow. “I simply have no talent when it comes to lightning magic,” she lay down on the snow and huffed in irritation. “Give me a system, Solas” she said.

“We are not in your Circle anymore, I don’t teach with a traditional system. Keep practicing, you’ll find your way to it,” Solas replied as he plucked his staff out of the snow, before demonstrating the proper way of casting the spell. He turned to her and didn’t bother to hide his cunning smile.

She shook her head. “Show-off,” she chuckled. 

The remark earned a chuckle. Solas held out a hand, and Aria takes it. “That’s enough for today,” he said and pulled her up with relative ease. “You’ve quite the aptitude for offensive magic. I’m surprised you don’t give it more focus. Does your circle not teach it?”

A distant look passed over her grey eyes, but disappeared as quickly as it came. “Ah, no, that’s not it,” Aria answered, “I just didn’t pursue it, I knew the basics and that was enough.” She sighed, “Now that I think about it, I was researching on something when I left the Circle. What a shame, my notes are all gone. I’ve worked so hard on them.”

“What were you researching?”

She chuckled, “Mostly, how to speed up certain incantations,” she explained, “I’ve been at it for months, but I haven’t had much progress.”

Aria climbed up the path leading to the Chantry, dreading that today’s meal had an unhealthy amount of kale, until she saw the crowd gathered around the chantry. On one side were mages on the other were the templars, the crowd, thick with tension as both sides levelled each other with seething rage. 

“Your kind murdered the Most Holy!” growled one of the templars, pointing an accusatory finger.

A mage stepped forth. “Lies!” he thundered, with his opponent a step away, “ _ Your _ kind let her die!”

The previous templar flashed his teeth that may as well be baring fangs. Fury and vitriol burned brighter in his eyes. “Shut your mouth mage!” he shouted.

Aria scoffed a laugh “Shut your mouth,” she repeated and shook her head. “That’s normally what a person says when they’re out of insults,” her voice loud enough for only Solas to hear. 

The Templar grabbed the hilt of his sword ready to draw. Aria raised her staff right before the Commander wedged himself between them. “Enough!” in a voice that made Aria feel like one of the recruits he trained.

The templar gasped, “Knight-Captain!”

“That is not my title,” Cullen almost growled as he increased their distance between each other. “We are not templars any longer. We are all part of the Inquisition.” Aria felt the slight ease of tension as the two parties began to stand down.

“And what does that mean, exactly?” The voice was vexingly familiar. Chancellor Roderick stalked towards them with the crowd parting to give way. 

Solas was thankful that the Seeker had not been around. Cullen’s thundering voice, and brash persona should be enough for this crowd, adding to it may worsen the situation. Meanwhile, Aria remained at the sidelines still, observing the crowd. She digs her staff into the snow “You’d think the man planned this whole incident with that sort of timing and appearance.”

Cullen’s stare couldn’t be mistaken for anything other than annoyance. “Back already, Chancellor? Haven’t you done enough?”

“I’m curious Commander,” he said before turning to the crowd before him, “As to how you’re Inquisition and its  _ Herald,  _ will restore order as you’ve promised.” He looked towards the woman who stood beside Solas, amusement now void from her face, while a self-satisfied grin graced his.

“Of course you are,” the commander replied with rancor. He shook his head before he turned to the mages and templars “Back to your duties all of you,” he commanded. And with that, all voices of protests were silenced, and they marched back to their stations with murmurs of discontent that Cullen ignored.

Solas looked beside him where Aria stood still, drowning in her thoughts. “Perhaps you should have intervened?” he suggested.

She shook her head slowly “My words won’t carry any weight unless I have actions to support it. So far, I have none.” she returned his gaze, this time her expression had lightened, a smile gracing her lips. “Not to worry, I plan to deliver,” she assured him and flashed him a smile. 

Aria left Solas to join the Commander as he stared Chancellor Roderick down. “I don’t know if I should be glad that the breach hasn’t changed  _ some _ things in this world,” she remarked as she approached. 

The Commander sighed and shook his head, “Mages and templars were already at war. Now they’re blaming each other for the Divine’s death.”

“Which is why we require a proper authority to guide them back to order,” Chancellor Roderick argued.

“Who, you?” Cullen insinuated with an arched brow, “Random clerics not important enough to be at the Conclave?”

“The rebel Inquisition and its so-called Herald of Andraste? I think not,” he mocked.

“Say what you will, Chancellor,” Aria said, “but you can’t deny that the Inquisition is doing well so far. About as well as young family, if you will. ”

“How many families are on the verge of splitting into open warfare with themselves?” he countered.

“Yes,” Cullen scoffed, “Because that would never happen to the Chantry.”

Chancellor Roderick’s glare grew sharper. “Centuries of tradition will guide us. We are not the upstart, eager to turn over every apple in the cart.”

Something inside her snapped, and her mood turned sour. “Its centuries of traditions that got us  _ here _ . We tried your methods and it’s failed and  _ we’re _ the ones trying to clean it up.” Aria turned to Cullen. “Does he even have business loitering about here?”

The Chancellor looked back at Cullen with a smug expression. Aria wanted to hit him. “Clearly your Templar knows where to draw the line,” he sneered.

Cullen’s arms were tightly crossed over his chest. He looked like he wanted to hit him too. “He’s toothless,” he spat. “There’s no point in turning him into a martyr simply because he runs at the mouth.” Cullen sighed and met her stare. “I’m sure the Chancellor is a good indication of what to expect in Val Royeaux.”

“Let’s at least hope I return with solutions,” Aria eyed Chancellor Roderick, “I don’t exactly revel at the thought of a cathedral full of, well,” she grimaced, “Chancellors.”

“The stuff of nightmares,” he groaned.

“Mock if you will,” raising his chin as held his hands behind him, “I’m sure the Maker is less amused.”

A smirk caressed Aria’s lips, “Well,” she said, “Perhaps not the  _ Maker,  _ Chancellor. But Andraste’s chosen certainly does.”

The glare that he gave her dripped with so much venom, that all he lacked was a forked tongue.  Without another word the Chancellor stomps off towards into the Chantry. 

Aria sighed, and eased the tension from her shoulders. She began walking off, and Cullen followed in stride. “How unfortunate,” she frowned, “I even promised myself to be civil with him.”

Cullen snorted, “His behaviour hardly calls for it.”

Aria nearly chuckled until she remembered the way her mentor at the Circle would strike her hand at such  _ unrefined  _ manners. _ You are a scholar and a lady, conduct yourselves as such.  _ She used to say when they laughed a little too loudly.

“Maybe so,” she said and paused when they neared her cabin door. “But I receive enough reprimanding from our dear Seeker. I’d rather I don’t receive any more from Lady Montilyet.”

Cullen smiled, rather charmingly. “Not to worry, I doubt she can do any worse than Cassandra.”

“Oh, commander,” she said. “Hasn’t anyone ever taught you never to underestimate the quiet ones?” she asked with a sly grin. “I should leave you to it. I’ll be in my cabin, pretending to be asleep,” with a final nod, she walks off and disappears behind her cabin doors.

#

_ Inquisition Leaders, _

_ Lovely weather in Val Royeaux, not to be mistaken of course, with the murderous clerics screaming for my execution, it wasn’t pleasant exchange. And here I thought the Seeker’s combat training was gruesome. I stand corrected. Only time will tell if I’ve planted the ‘doubt’ we were aiming for. As our ambassador said, neither side will speak to us. However, there are a few individuals under their wings that are willing to. We shall discuss them upon my return. _

_ I have two other recruits who approached me in Val Royeaux as well. One of them is Madam de Fer, a well-known name in the Orlesian court, or so I understand. She is taking care of a few matters, but will arrive within the next few days. The fellow named Sera, who also claims that she is part of a group called ‘Friends of Red Jenny’ will be arriving with us. She’s rather strange. To me at least, half of the time, I don’t rightly understand her meaning. But she has a network we can make use of, and beggars can’t be choosers, as the saying goes. _

_ Yours, _

_ Aria Marie Deanne Augustine Trevelyan _

 

#

These days, it’s been a common occurrence that during her training sessions with the Seeker, while her fellow companions would watch and commentate on her poor performance. In those moments, she would hold fast to Solas’ compliment on her aptitude to offensive spells.

Once training ended dinner was always prepared. While she washed her hands, Aria allowed herself to enjoy the tranquility of the moment. She rarely has them these days.

Aside from the library, Aria loved the ambience of the chapel. She wasn’t as devout as the Divine’s hands, but she found comfort of grace there. And it was quiet enough to hear her thoughts. The room of the tranquil was just as quiet, but she wasn’t like Minaeve. She liked the tranquil well-enough, but they had always served as a reminder of what she could be.

And it had always been a source shame on her part that she had treated them with a degree of reserve. 

_ "Look to My work," said the Voice of Creation. "See what My children in arrogance wrought. _

She remembered reading such a thing in the written Chant of Light. And Aria has certainly seen that with the clerics. Her mind wandered off to her father, and her brothers. She’s received no news from them, other than when her Circle fell and that had been a month ago. She tries her best not to think of what sort of chaos the war had wrought there. 

More often than not, she finds herself whispering a prayer for them, just before she drifts off to sleep. That the same grace that delivered her from the Conclave would be upon them, as well.

If she’s learned anything from history, is that when war comes to a nation, it’s always the ones at the bottom of the barrel that suffer the worst.  _ What would you have me do?  _ She whispered to Andraste.  _ Save the Maker’s children? I may be arrogant but not to that degree. I doubt they even want that, and save them from what? _

The party ate their food, and Cassandra found Aria by the river, seated on a rock. Her gloves on her lap and her hands still wet, as her grey eyes focused on the setting sun. “Trevelyan,” she called out, and the Herald turns to face her. “You should eat,” she said and handed her a bowl of food and bread wrapped in a cloth.

“Oh,” Aria blinked back into reality, “Thank you.” 

Crossing her arms, she spoke, “Don’t tell me Varric’s comments about your form have gotten to you.”

Aria gave her a single-syllable laugh, “No,” she answered and bit into her bread.

“Good, because it  _ is  _ terrible,” she bluntly remarked.

She hummed, “Thank you for diligently reminding me so,” she said dryly.

Cassandra smiled. “So? Why are you really out here?”

For a moment, she considered telling her the truth. That while she washed her hands, the mark had ached for the fifth time today, and according to the scouts there were no rifts in the area, and it was beginning to scare her.

She was confident in the fact that she’s read many magical texts, in her sedated life in the Ostwick Circle, it’s all she ever did in that tower. But none had an ounce of information on the mark. She’s poured through the books in Haven’s library to no avail. She had even visited a library in Val Royeaux in hopes to find some sort of historical text to help her. It was a shot in the dark, an utterly useless and failure of a shot.

“Too many uncertainties,” she answered instead. Aria’s lips spread into a smile to brush off the Seeker’s concern. “That’s all.”


	6. Chapter 6

Aria was hoping for a few moments of rest for her raw thighs from riding, but the instant that her boots touched the ground, Cassandra dragged her to the Chantry. With a stern gaze, that’s all it took really, Aria knew better than to defy that. They strode inside, with Aria awkwardly walking and stretching her limbs.

Josephine noticed their entry and immediately approached them. “It’s good you’ve returned, we’ve heard of your encounter.”

The two of them paused. “You heard?” Cassandra repeated.

“My agents sent word ahead, of course,” Leliana replied and crossed the hallway.

Cullen trailed behind her. “It is a shame that the Templars have abandoned their senses as well as the capital,” he said, crossing his arms and sighing heavily.

“It wasn’t certainly wasn’t the most productive encounter,” Aria remarked and followed the rest of them towards the War room. “At the very least, we know how to approach them.”

“Do we?” Cassandra asked, “Lord Lucius is not the man, I remember.”

“True,” Leliana voiced, “He has taken the Order somewhere, but to do what?” she asked, eyebrows drawing together in suspicion. “My reports have been, very odd.”

“We must look into it,” Cullen inserted. “I am sure not everyone will support the Lord Seeker.”

“Or the Herald could simply go to meet the mages in Redcliffe, instead,” Josephine suggested.

It was a suggestion that made Cullen pause. “You think the mage rebellion is more united? It could be ten times worse!” 

Aria made sure not to display any sort expression that would voice the words ‘And what exactly do you mean by that?’, that she’s kept tucked in the back of her throat. “There’s no harm in finding out what they want,” she told them, “Although I have a general idea,” she mumbled.

 “What they have always wanted,” Cassandra sighed, “Support for their cause.”

Aria arched a brow, “You’re telling me the Templars don’t want the same?” 

“We shouldn’t discount Redcliff,” Josephine said, cutting into the rising tension between them. “The mages may be worth the risk.” 

“They are powerful, Ambassador, but more desperate than you realize,” Cassandra replied.

Aria almost laughed, almost. If she really laughed, Cassandra would probably swat the back of her head. “Need I remind I was attacked by a hired blade  _ just _ this morning?”

“That’s because you foolishly strayed away from camp,” Cassandra interjected.

Aria rolled her eyes. “My point is, I’ll be in danger no matter what we decide on.”

Cassandra didn’t appreciate her remark. “If some among the rebel mages were responsible for what happened at the Conclave—“

“The same could be said about the Templars,” Josephine interrupted.

“True enough,” Cullen nodded. “Right now, I’m not certain we have enough influence to approach The Order safely.”

“Then the Inquisition needs agents in more places,” Cassandra decided and turned to the Herald. “That’s something you can help with,” she said.

_ In other words, more work.  _ Aria thought and sighed through her nose. “Well,” she said, “We best see which pieces we can use on the board.” With a nod of her head, she gestures for them to follow her into the War Room.

=

The meeting lasted for at least an hour, Aria couldn’t tell, her watch was still broken. She was quite certain it was an hour, the arguments usually last about five minutes, a shift of a different topic, then another three minutes of arguing, before shifting once more. Thus, an hour was a good approximate. They were particularly glad that Vivienne had joined the Inquisition, since she has quite the network, although the Friends of Red Jenny was a beneficial relationship, as well.

“Herald,” Josephine called out as Aria made her way out. “I know you’d like to rest, but if you could spare me a moment?”

Aria nodded and stepped into her office, strangely enough, Leliana joined them. “Is something wrong?” she asked, noticing the box of recovered items was gone from its spot. Did they throw it out or was everything claimed?

“Your brother,” she said “Bann Trevelyan, he’s sworn allegiance to us, but some of your relatives are causing quite a stir. Some are dragging our name, and others praising it. I wrote to your brother and his reply was rather troubling.” She looked down at her board. “And I quote ‘I am aware of the situation, and I shall do my best.” Josephine looked up, and was surprised to see the Herald scoff a laugh. 

“Yes,” she replied. “That sounds like Bryce.”

“How should we approach this?” asked she.

Aria drew in a sharp breath, “I’m afraid it’s not that simple,” she said, “not that politics is ever simple,” she mumbled. “If Bryce told you he’ll do his best, believe him. He may be my brother, but I’ll vouch for his integrity. He’s an honorable fellow.” 

“What exactly is the situation?” Leliana asked.

“What it’s always been,” she grinned knowingly, “a family feud,” she answered. 

“Well, if that’s the case, we may be of help, it is after all, such is an Ambassador’s duty,” she proudly smiled. 

Aria shook her head, “No, I’m afraid this one goes beyond strife for land." Aria moved to settled down on the cushioned chair in front of her oak desk. She might as well tell them now, it’s not like it’s a secret she cares to keep. “Right,” she said, shifting into a comfortable position. “As you may already know,” she began, glancing towards Leliana, “I am not purely a Trevelyan, not by blood anyways." Clasping her hands together, she places them on her lap, being careful not to show a hint of unease."My father... had an affair, and so... here I am.”

“This affair, was it with a mage?” asked Josephine.

"Maybe, I at least think so," she took a deep breath, "I know little other than he loved her," her eyes focused on the crackling fire. “He was deeply in love with her, and it’s difficult to ask him about it, not when he looks...the way he does when you do.”

_ Like he’s reaching into old memories he can no longer touch. _

"I'm sorry to hear that, Herald," Josephine said. 

A scoff escaped through her nose. "Yes well, don't be, I never knew her, she died upon my birth.” Aria blinked a few times, and noted how the lack of windows in the room, must be straining for the ambassador’s eyes. 

“Up until I was nine, I was given a title and fair treatment from everyone except my step-mother and a few select relatives. They were scrutinizing us enough with my illegitimacy. You can just imagine what happened when I came out as a mage." 

"Oh," Josephine said with dread. 

She smiled.  _ Click _ her pocket watch opens, exposing the broken glass. "I was shipped off to the Circle and stripped of my title and inheritance. That was the only time I saw my step-mother smile at me.”  _ Click _ the pocket watch closes and she straightened, and cleared her throat. 

“Most of my ‘family’—“ putting quotations in the air, “—Want nothing to do with me, but my father kept relations, and,” she paused, “Since Trevelyans have such close relations to the Chantry, it didn’t sit well with the relatives.” She paused, “The Trevelyans are a devout people, sure, but they’re quite political about it. You know how nobles are, with their formalities and what not.” She leaned back in her chair, placing her arms on the rests.  “When my brother inherited the title, he, like my father continued to treat me kindly.”

“Kindly?” asked Leliana.

She shrugged. “Books that I’d like to have in the Circle, visits to the manor once or twice a year— monitored of course.”

“I can’t imagine that wasn’t received without hostility.”

“No,” she said, “For all parties involved. Nonetheless, Marchers are...quaint. The nay-sayers are vocal with their disapproval, but they still adhere to my brother’s authority.” Turning to Leliana, she asked, “I find it hard to believe that your agents haven’t told you this already, I imagine the maids are quite chatty.”

“I was looking for a different take,” she replied.

“I’m sorry to disappoint,” Aria said, “But that’s all there is to it, really. Just a family feud.”

“Be that as it may,” Leliana said, “We can’t just allow them to keep slandering our name.”

“I’m sorry truly am sorry to hear that, Aria,” Josephine frowned. “If it’s difficult we can--”

Aria interrupted her with a dismissive wave. “I’m not against asking their support if the support is sorely needed,” she told her, “but it is rough waters, if you think it’s worth the trouble, hand me a list and I’ll suggest a few people whose opinions may be swayed,” She shrugged with a smirk, “Perhaps you could send them a fruit basket." 

No one answered, and the room was blanketed with unease. She could tell by the way Josephine looked to Leliana. For half a moment, her eyes betrayed her with a look of pity.

Aria had no need for it. She no longer cared for this, it’s been 2 decades. “Don’t dwell on it. I certainly don’t. I never belonged in that house, my step-mother made that  _ very  _ clear.” Aria rose from her seat. “Now, if there’s nothing else, I’d like to rest.”

“O-of course, Lady Trevelyan,” Josephine answered.

She smiled, thanked them with a nod and left the room. She didn’t care anymore, once she accepted she couldn’t change anything, she stopped caring. And yet, as she left the chantry, her feet moved in quickened pace for the privacy of her cabin.

She shut the door behind and settled onto her desk. 

_ Trevelyan’s are not mages,  _ they would tell her like her blood was tainted.  _ You’ve no place here, bastard. _

She knew that. She could never please them and she’s stopped trying years ago. Pulling her drawer out, she takes a sheet of paper. She had other matters to take care of. She doesn’t need to dwell in such unpleasant memories.

_ You deserve nothing from this house. _

_ My love, she is just a child _

_ Richard, she’s not  _ my  _ child! How do you even know she’s yours?! _

A knock pulls her out of her thoughts, and she sighed. “I’m not hungry Ellyn!” she yelled out. “Actually,” she said, “Some tea would be nice, whichever has the strongest aroma.” Taking her quill, she began writing. She’s been meaning to salvage what she could remember from her studies, and now that she had free time, there was no better chance.

When the culprit cleared their throat, however, she knew it was definitely not Ellyn. “I, er, it’s me, Cullen” the reply came.

“Oh,” Aria shook her head, “Come in, Commander,” she said before setting her quill aside.

The wooden door creaked open and revealed the Commander. His stature appeared much larger in the tight walls of her cabin. “My apologies, Ellyn is my only frequent visitor.”

He squared his soldiers before speaking, “I’m sorry to disturb your rest Herald—”

“Aria,” she interrupted as she settled back down on her bed. “We’ve discussed this Cullen,” she reminded. Cullen did not acknowledge this and simply held out the stack of papers in his hands. “These are?” she asked as she took hold of them.

“Reports from our forces in the Hinterlands, you asked for them as soon as they were available,” he explained, crossing his arms.

Aria’s grey eyes skimmed over the words before looking up. “You came all the way here to personally deliver this to me?” Aria grinned, “Are you sure that’s wise? Who will scold poor Laurence when he thrusts his sword without tripping over?” 

When she looked up, she found his focus on the papers on her desk. Brown eyes focused on the messily drawn diagrams and scribbled words. “Ah,” he blinked and turned to her, “I beg your pardon, you were saying?”

She smiled and shook her head. “I know,” she sighed, “It’s a mess. I’m trying to retrace my studies from the Circle,” she explained and set the reports beside her notes. “It’s rather futile though. The research already had flaws, and with an even more flawed memory...” she trailed off with a sigh

“Please ensure that there are Templars with you, in case you’d like to practice,” he reminded. 

Her mood soured at his words, she gave him a rather curt nod, “Have I ever shown intentions not to?”

Cullen wasn’t deaf towards her tone. “Surely, you know they are for your protection. You are important to the cause.” 

She turned to him with a bitter smile. “Don’t worry, if you ever fail to tell me that, I have a plethora of people to remind me.

His jaw tensed. “Herald, I understand that you joined us in rather special circumstances. But I hope you find your place here,” he said. 

Now this amused her, and she simply couldn’t help her grin. “Well,” she chuckled bitterly and her tense shoulders eased. “ _ Joined _ , is quite the word is it not?”

“You were given a choice,” he reminded.

She scoffed. “A choice made under duress is hardly a choice,” she said. “Cooperate or be thrown to the wolves, those were my so called choices. The only difference was your Spymaster used gentler words.” 

“That’s not—“

“Oh but it is” she interrupted. “Didn’t you hear the Ambassador? I’m a symbol of hope and everything wrong. In simpler terms, a pretty bird in a cage, you can wave around,” waving her hand in a mockingly pretentious manner. “I’m not stupid, I can close rifts. I know what I look like to them.” She looked out the window, and folded her arms; her shoulders heaving to suppress her temper. “Leaving is not a choice.”

“You’re safe here,” he assured. “You are no prisoner.”

Now this, this truly made her laugh. The sound that should have been mellifluous caressed cold fingers over his forearms. “Spoken like a true Templar,” she didn’t bother hiding her vitriol. “Phrase it however you like, a cage is a cage.” She settled back onto her bed, refusing to meet his eyes. “You should leave. I’ve wasted enough of your time.”

Three beats until Cullen pivoted and left her to simmer in her thoughts.  She sighed, “You’re such a liar,” she whispered to herself.


	7. Chapter 7

_ Inquisition Leaders, _

_ If Cassandra makes a snide comment in her letter, know that we’ve had another argument. Most of it stems from her rigorously stressful training methods for combat training. I repeat, I am aware of my hideous form and lack of strength, Varric and Dorian make sure I never forget, but if anything, she needs patience. Soon enough, I’ll be able to throw her over my hip. _

_ I know that Vivienne, or Madam De Fer, as she prefers to be addressed, is a good addition to our cause. But half the time, I have to make sure she is not within five meters of Solas, and so, they take turns staring longingly at my hand. It’s also good to know that every time they switch, they feel the need to somehow tell their views on how mages should live.  _

_ And here I thought the bears were troublesome. _

_ Now, onto more pressing matters, I’d like to just take a moment to appreciate the fact that our hard work seems to be paying off in the Hinterlands. There is now at least a three hour interval before we get ambushed. The locals are cooperating well, and in case Horse-master Dennet wanted to know, his family is doing very well. Inquisition soldiers are doing their best to make them safe. Also, his daughter owes me ten sovereigns for the races.  _

_ I’ve met with the Grey Warden, Blackwall. I’m sorry Leliana, but no luck. He’s here alone, training some locals to fend for themselves. He hasn’t made contact with his fellow Wardens, either. He’s joined the cause however, and I am glad of it, he’s a fine warrior even by Cassandra’s standards.  _

_  There is some sort of cult here that has a strong belief that Andraste has returned, and so by waving my glowing hand about, we’ve managed to recruit them. I’ve mostly tasked them to spread the good word about us. Maker knows our Ambassador needs it. Although some have volunteered to help the injured locals. _

_ P.S. We stumbled upon a dragon while I was picking elfroots. It’s dead now. And well...we’re less injured than I expected. Please tell that to Adan if ever the news reaches Haven. _

_ Yours, _

_ Aria  Deanne Trevelyan _

#

“It’s quite troubling, as you can tell. If your own son is working to overthrow you, surely it’s a strong indicator you’re doing something wrong,” she said to the Inquisition leaders as they circled the war table.  Aria took a breath and waved a dismissive hand, “Jokes aside, we need to take care of this as soon as possible.”

Cullen strongly disagreed, “We don’t have enough manpower to take the castle. Either we find another way in, or we give up this madness and go get the Templars.”

“Redcliffe is in the hands of a magister,” Cassandra answered, “This cannot be allowed to stand.”

“The letter from Alexius asked for the Herald of Andraste by name,” Josephine said. Aria rose her brow in intrigue, “It’s an obvious trap.”

“Oh?” Aria said, “Do tell what he said about me.”

Leliana grinned, “He is so complementary, that we are certain he wants to kill you.”

Aria crossed her arms, “Tell him, he’ll have to wait his turn, hired blades are still at it.”

“You don’t understand, Herald,” he said, “Redcliffe Castle is one of the most defensible fortresses in Ferelden. It has repelled thousands of assaults. If you go in there, you’ll die and we’ll lose the only means to close the rift. I won’t allow it,” he sternly said.

“If we do not even try to meet Alexius, we lose the mages and leave a hostile foreign power on our doorstep,” Leliana argued.

“Even if we could assault the keep,” Josephine inserted “It would be for naught. An ‘Orlesian’ Inquisition’s army marching into Ferelden would provoke a war,” she said, “Our hands are tied.”  

Cassandra sighed, “The Magister—“

“Has outplayed us,” the Commander interrupted.

Aria released a calming breath, too many problems and too many risks. But after speaking with Fiona, and even Felix and Dorian, it just didn’t sit right to turn a blind eye. “There has to be another way. I don’t want to let a magister to just do as he pleases.”

Beside her, Cassandra agreed. “We cannot accept defeat now. There must be a solution.”

Aria’s head shot up as an idea came to mind. “When I was a young girl, I discovered a hidden room in my father’s study. I used to hide in it, until I found out it was a passage leading to the forest behind our house.”

“Your point?” the Commander asked.

“My point is, if a bann had other points of exits, an arl ought to have few.” Aria turned to Josephine, “You said Arl Teagan was in charge of Redcliffe, yes? Where is he now?”

“After he was displaced, he went straight for Denerim to petition the Crown for help,” she answered. “I doubt he’ll ask for our assistance once the Ferelden army lays siege to the castle.”

She clicked her tongue. “And we can’t exactly wait for them to,” she sighed.

“Wait,” Leliana inserted, “There is a secret passage into the castle, an escape route for the family. It’s too narrow for our troops, but we could send agents through.”

Before Aria could even cheer, the commander shot the idea down. “Too risky,” he said and shook of his head, “Those agents will be discovered well before they reach the magister.”

Leliana turned to him, “That’s why we need a distraction.” With a knowing grin she turned to Aria, “Perhaps the envoy Alexius wants so badly?” 

He hummed in thought, “Focus their attention on Trevelyan while we take out the Tevinters. It’s risky, but it could work.”

_ Trevelyan _ , she thought. Well it’s an improvement, at least. The door slammed open and Aria snapped out of her thoughts. She grinned as she recognized the mage that entered with a certain swagger in his stride. “Fortunately, you’ll have help,” Dorian said.

“This man says he has information on the magister and his methods,” said the soldier behind him. 

Aria dismissed the soldier, and turned to Dorian. “I didn’t realize you were so eager to see me,” Aria teased. 

“I’m glad to see you’re still in one piece,” he remarked. before turning to the other leaders. “Your spies will never get past Alexius’ magic without my help. So if you’re going after him, I’m coming along.”

Cullen shifted his gaze from Dorian, to the Herald. “The plan puts you in most danger. We can’t order you, in good conscience to do this,” he said. 

She nodded. “I know, you don’t have to, I want to do this.”

“We can still go after the templars, if you’d rather not play the bait. It’s up to you,” he added.

“I’ve made up my mind, commander,” she replied before turning to the rest of them. “Let’s begin preparations immediately,” she said before turning to Dorian with a smile, “I look forward to working with you, Dorian.”

“Oh, you should,” he answered.

Aria chuckled, “Right, come on then, let’s find you a place to bunk for the night.”

#

Though weeks had passed, and the snow had begun to settle back in, the smell of burnt flesh had faded now, but not the scent of ash and dust. She’s found herself back at the Temple of Sacred Ashes. There were more guards, but a kind smile from the Herald was all it took for them to let her through. It didn’t matter though. She’s had no luck finding it. She won’t ever find it.

“Your Worship, I beg your pardon my lady, but we can’t stay here any longer, it’s getting dark and we were instructed not to let anyone here,” said the soldier she managed to convince to let her inside for a few minutes, at least. “The commander has asked to see you, as well.”

She sighed, and nodded, preparing herself for a lecture. The soldier then escorted her to where the Commander was. Like usual, was watching his recruits with a steady and piercing gaze.  She straightened her new coat, tailored from that troublesome dragon and gazed up at him. “You needed to see me, Commander?”

Commander Cullen spared her a glance, before turning to his lieutenant to have him take charge. “I thought it’s been made clear that the temple is off-limits, you are no exception.”

After their argument, it was an unspoken agreement of theirs not to bring it up. They were professionals, and ever since her return, they had been nothing but courteous to one another.

Aria was equal parts relieved and ashamed. “Yes, I know and I understand the precaution,” she answered.

He sighed, “This isn’t the first time you’ve done this.” Her first time was the morning he saw her covered in ash and dust. A few weeks after that, he was told by a soldier she had managed to slip past them, and today, it’s this. “Why do you feel the need to keep returning there?”

She thought about lying to him, but after what the argument, she felt the need to at least give him an ounce of honesty. “I was looking for a ring,” she confessed. Before the commander could ask, she cuts him off. “Not mine, the templar who escorted me to the Conclave, he’s—he  _ was _ a friend, always had been. He has a wife living in Redcliff, I saw her when I was there last there, but I couldn’t approach her. Their wedding rings had an engraving and I thought if she didn’t have a body to mourn to, she could at least have his ring.”

The commander released a breath, and watched as she averted her eyes in shame. “I’m sorry for your loss, Herald, but did you really believe you could find it in those ruins?”

“No,” she answered. “But he was a good man and he loved his wife. She deserves something more than words.” 

He wanted to ask for the Templar’s name. With the rumors surrounding Ostwick Circle, he was surprised to find that she had a friend among Templars. “I think more than a ring, his wife would appreciate it more to hear the kind of man he was to you.” She met his gaze, “I’ve said this before, but you’re exposed to enough danger. The events and the magic involved there is still a mystery, you must practice caution.”

“If there was magic there, I, of all people would be able to tell,” she spat sharply. But upon realizing her tone, she sighed and shook her head. “Forgive me, I’m…” 

Cullen understood, “We’ve all had it tough Herald, I think you more than anyone.”

“No,” she answered again, reaching up to touch her watch, “Comparing wounds, talking about which one hurts more...that’s how wars start.” She took a deep breath to calm herself. “The truth… the whole truth is... that I don’t just go there with blind hope of finding a ring. I thought that maybe walking around would jog my memory.” 

Her left hand, he noticed, had twitched and she curled it up into a fist. “Does it hurt?”

Instinctively, she hides it behind her and ignored his question. “I’ll stop going up there. I’m sorry for causing you trouble.”

“Herald,” he called out before she could make a move to leave. He paused, suddenly hesitant to start his next sentence. The sound of clashing metal filling the silence in between them, Aria waited patiently until she had an inclination on what he was trying to say. 

Although he had no business knowing, Josephine told him about her background...what she had to live through.  _ I meant what I said, you have a place here.  _ “Be safe, tomorrow,” he said, instead. Aria smiled politely and continued on her way.


	8. Chapter 8

_ Everybody dies _

She was back at the docks, the sound of clashing metal ever present behind her. She was back at Haven now, safe, and full of people without red lyrium growing out of their skin. No time-manipulating magister here. No overwhelming amount of demons prowling about. No, none of those here, just shitty memories to go along with shitty people like her.

No one else remembered that horrid tale, except of course, Dorian. Varric was itching for details, and she promised she’ll share them once she’s collected herself. When she could address the matter without the memory of Felix, crouching down to his father telling him ‘It will be alright, father’, even though it should have been Alexius who told him that.

_ Everybody dies _

Felix assured him, and he looked older than the years he wouldn’t have. Strangers they may be, Aria admired him in accepting his fate. But at the same time, thought that he was far too young to have such wisdom.

She could still feel them. His hands that grabbed hers when his father was dragged off. She could still hear the clanking of metal as Cassandra prepared to draw her sword. But Felix brought her no harm, only a request, “For all he’s done, I will not ask for your forgiveness, only mercy, he is my father.”

_ I know _ she wanted to tell him, but instead she brought her hands down. “I represent the Inquisition, but I do not lead it. His fate is not mine to judge.” Felix’s eyes cast down at her words. “But I’ll make sure your plea is heard.” He smiled then, a hint of relief in those lost eyes. 

“I don’t know who your father is, past… past this, but whoever he was to you, I hope you don’t forget it, no matter what others may say.” She left it at that, no longer wanting to brood in such an atmosphere. Cassandra disapproved of her words, but she gave it no heed. 

“Your Worship,” Ellyn called out behind her, “Lady Cassandra needs to speak with you at your earliest convenience.” Aria stood in what seemed like hours of sitting, her joints cracking in displeasure. Despite what happened, the world needs to move on. The breach was still in the sky, and the Divine’s death was still a mystery. Her hand twitched from the light pain from the mark, as if to tell her not to forget its presence

_ Earliest convenience.  _ She hated hearing that word lately.  _ Convenience.  _ Never was convenient. “Where is she?” she asked.

“In the Chantry,” she answered, and Aria nodded with a thanks. “Oh, please take this,” she said, holding out a mug. 

She accepted the mug of tea she held out and smiled, “Thank you, Ellyn that will be all.” Ellyn smiled back before walking off to continue with her duties. 

Aria headed to the Chantry, where Josephine and Cassandra awaited her. As soon as she crossed the doorway, Cullen’s voice was the first thing she heard. “It is not a matter of debate. There will be abominations among the mages, and we must be prepared.”

“If we rescind the alliance it will make the Inquisition appear incompetent at best, tyrannical at worst,” Josephine argued.

Cullen’s eyes shifted to her as she approached. Golden eyes hardened in piercing glare. “What were you thinking, turning mages loose with no oversight? The veil is torn open!” he barked.

Aria’s mood quickly soured, but made sure her face remained neutral. “We don’t make peace by treating one another like enemies,” she countered, and sipped her warm beverage. “Our aim is to restore peace, I believe this is a good place to start.”

The commander bristled and gripped the hilt of his sword, “I know we need them for the breach, but they could do as much damage as the demons themselves—”

“If you’re just going to lecture me about the dangers of being a mage, I’m sorry to tell you I’ve already had two decades of lectures to catch me up,” she said her tone rising to meet his.

“Enough arguing,” Cassandra interrupted, “None of us were there. We cannot afford to second guess our people.” The two of them shared a look but inevitably yielded. Aria’s shoulders relaxed and Cullen’s grip eased on his hilt. Cassandra continued. “The sole point of the mission was to gain the mages’ aid, and that was accomplished,” she said.

“The voice of pragmatism, speaks,” Dorian said, as he walked out of the corner he sat on and leaned onto one of the pillars. “And here I was just starting to enjoy the circular arguments.”

Aria scoffed, “I’m glad I could be a source of your entertainment,” she said sarcastically as she sipped her tea.

“Closing the breach is all that matters,” Cassandra finished.

“I, for one, am not particularly eager for the future, in the event that we fail,” Aria added.

“We should look into the things you saw in this ‘dark’ future.” Leliana said, “The assassination of Empress Celene? A Demon army?” 

Dorian chuckled, “Sounds like something a Tevinter cult might do. Orlais falls, the Imperium rises, chaos for everyone.”

“One battle at a time,” Cullen reminded, and Aria raised her mug to agree. “It’s going to take time to organize our troops and the mage recruits.” Cullen sighed, before meeting Aria’s gaze. “Let’s take this to the war room. Join us, none of this means anything without your mark after all,” he said, his voice free from the hostility it had earlier.

“Are you grateful enough to let me skip that and have a nap?”

He snorted, and Aria nearly dropped her mug. “What is it they say? No rest for the wicked.” The perfect remark came to mind, but she decided not to ruin the mood. 

“I’ll skip the war council,” Dorian said, “but I would like to see this breach up close, if you don’t mind.”

Aria had to pause, “Then, you’re staying?”

“Oh didn’t I mention?” he asked.” The south is so charming and rustic, I adore it to little pieces.”

“I must admit, Dorian, I’m surprised,” she said.

“We both saw what could happen,” he continued, eyes growing darker. “What this Elder One and his cult are trying to do. Not everything from Tevinter is terrible. Some of us have fought for eons against this sort of madness. It’s my duty to stand with you. That future will not come to pass,” he said in confidence.

And just like his promise to protect her when they were tossed into that horrible future, it was reassuring. Aria smiled, “Whatever your reason, I’m glad you are. There’s no one I’d rather be stranded in time with. Future or present.”

“Excellent choice,” he commended with a nod. “But let’s not get stranded again anytime,” he said before walking off.

#

As night settled into Haven, Cullen had finally finished reading a stack of reports concerning the events of Haven, and had drafted a work schedule for the Templars. The mages outnumbered them, but he’ll simply have to make do. With the Maker’s grace, perhaps the mages will cooperate. 

_ We don’t make peace by treating one another like enemies.  _ She told him, and she had been right. No matter how risky the alliance was, the Inquisition stands for peace. 

Josephine has at least secured them lyrium supplies. Cullen shut his eyes with a sigh, ignoring the low hum of hunger in his bones. He reached up to pinch the bridge of his nose, in hopes that it would somehow ease his headaches. 

He exits the tent he used as an office, to retire for the night, if rest would even visit him. As he stared up at the breach, he noticed a silhouette by the docks. Drawing closer, Cullen immediately recognized the stature, facing the frozen lake. “Herald,” he called, but she gave no reply. “Herald?” he called again, and he had an inclination she was doing it on purpose. “Aria?” he tried once more.

“Cullen, good evening,” she smiled as she turned to face him. “You see? Not so hard, was it?” he shook his head at her antics. “Tell me,” she said, shifting in topic, “Have you ever played Wicked Grace?” she asked.

Cullen ignored this question, “Are you drunk?”

“Hopefully,” she replied.  The alcohol that both Dorian and Sera roped her into drinking had begun to sing a low hum in her veins. Oh, and Varric. That wordsmith of a dwarf had her drinking her fifth mug before she even realized it. Perhaps she should start calling him Grace.

Who was she fooling? She wanted it. Wanted to numb something—everything for the night.

But as the tavern grew rowdier, she decided to take her drink and have a stroll outside. The sky was clear here, unlike Redcliffe, it had been cloudy last time she was there. If she fails, if she made the wrong move, the future she saw at Redcliffe, would no doubt come true. And everything they’re trying to build would crash down, breach or no.

The light on the nearby torch faintly illuminated her face. The fresh cut across her jaw was healing nicely. His eyes wandered to her full lips, as they parted to form words he didn’t catch. “I’m sorry?” 

“I said, you’re pale,” she paused, “Pallid, rather. Are feeling you alright?”

Cullen smiled kindly at her concern. “Just a headache,” he briefly answered, before shifting in topic. “It’s past midnight. Shouldn’t you be in bed?” he asked.

She hummed. “I wasn’t aware the Herald had a curfew.” 

“Preparations for the assault on the breach are underway,” he said, “We need everyone at their best if we want things to go well.”

She nodded slowly, though she had no intention of doing as asked, just yet. “I know you’re doubtful about the mages, but they’ll get the job done. I’ll do everything I can to make sure of it,” she answered.

“Everyone includes you, Aria,” he reminded. “After what happened at Redcliffe,” he paused when he noticed her downcast eyes. “You need rest,” he told her.

 “Don’t worry,” she said with a reassuring smile, “I just need something to put me to bed tonight.”

The look in her eyes were distant, and almost hurting. “I read your report,” he began, “It must’ve been...quite a scene.”

Aria nodded once again with cloudier eyes, and took another sip of her ale.

_ I’ll protect you _ , Dorian had said to her when they were thrown into that horrible future. She was calm, her tone of voice was collected, but she was asking too many questions, and Dorian had sensed her panic.

_ I’ll protect you.  _ Not from magic, not from yourself. But from these demons, from these brainwashed soldiers that would like you dead. From anyone that wanted you dead.  _ I’ll protect you.  _ She used to count the days as a little girl for someone to tell her those words.

“Pathetic,” she mumbled. Here she was, lamenting over pretty words while the world around them crumbled into chaos.

“Aria?” he called out. “What did you say?”

 “I spoke with Knight-Captain Wilton’s wife,” she said, evading his question.“The Templar, I mentioned before,” she clarified but he remembered it well. “I told her the story of how he and I met. She cried... a lot… she cried for a whole hour. She said that it was better than blind hope that he was alive. She even thanked me… she thanked me for telling her that her husband was dead, and not even a body remained.” She looked down at the contents of her mug, almost frowning at the fact that it was almost finished. 

“She thanked you for the truth,” he corrected softly. 

”Would you like to hear it?” she asked, looking up to meet his gaze, “The story.”

He drew in a breath. “If you’re willing to tell,” he answered.

She dug into her pocket and took out the broken pocket watch she always carried. “The day I left for the circle, my brothers hugged me so tight just so they could sneak this into my hands. But my hands were too small, and so I hid it behind my back. He offered to keep it hidden for me until we reached the circle and I could find someplace else to hide it.” She clicked it open. “He was still a lieutenant then, and he would have surely been kicked out of the order if anyone found out. Imagine trusting a child you barely know over that.”

Cullen smiled slightly. “Sounds like he trusted the right one.”

Everyone dies. 

“The Circle of Ostwick was… disciplined,” she hesitantly said. “I can’t really tell if he deserved to be Captain, compared to his predecessor, he was the good sort. He was kind, tolerant, he didn’t have to be, especially with the circumstances being what they are. Many protested to it, but I’m glad he ignored them.”

A part of Cullen felt ashamed that he could not admit to be the same, but he was at least glad that she held no resentment for templars. The sound of the wooden mug hitting the docks snapped him out of his thoughts. Cullen saw her shaking her left hand and hissing, “Blighted fuck!” she cursed. Doubling over, she grunted.

He heard the crackle of the mark. “Herald—“ She held a hand up, as she inspected the other. He watched with caution as she opened and closed her marked fist. “Should I fetch a healer? Maybe Solas?”

“I’m fine,” she gave out a throaty chuckle, her eyes glistening. “Oh dear, I can just hear my mentor’s voice scolding me for such words.”

“Herald,” he said with weighted tone. “Let me get Solas, at least.”

She shook her head, and bent down to pick up her mug. “No, he’s asleep. All of them, they’re asleep already. Besides, there’s not much they can do.” She sighed, before once again looking at him, a reassuring smile on her face as she reached up to touch his arm. “I’ll be okay, Cullen. I can take it,” she said before brushing past him, leaving him with the scent of flowers, wood oil and ale.


	9. Chapter 9

She was cursed, that’s what they were saying.

That’s why she needed to stay in her room. That’s why she can’t eat dinner with her brothers. That’s why she’s leaving first thing tomorrow. Aria thought of running away, she could climb down the window and sneak out like Henry and Bryce would do when they didn’t want to attend Elric’s lessons. But in the end she didn’t.

“Aria,” she heard from the window. A mop of brunette hair appeared by her window before arms braced themselves on the windowsill and she was met with green eyes.

It was Bryce. 

“Higher you idiot!” he almost yelled if they wouldn’t get in trouble for sneaking into her room.

“You’re heavier than a cow!” Henry replied before he grunted and did as asked. Bryce hoisted himself up and Aria ran to her window. “Now, help me up,” Henry told them both. “Hurry up, before they see us!”

Aria looked at her door and watched the shadows below it to see if their Templar cousin charged with watching her noticed. “You’re not allowed in here,” Aria told them with alarm, but Bryce only hushed her and helped their brother get up the window.

Soon enough, she saw Henry’s head pop up from below and he was pulled inside. Henry laughed at her warning “Don’t fret, Aria, we won’t get caught” he says with his usual smirk.

Bryce hit his brother on the head. “If you continue to talk so loud, we will,” and Henry made no move to retaliate.

The three siblings settled on her bed and each made sure to modulate their volume as to not alert their cousin, Robert outside. “Aunt Kathleen said mages are cursed,” Aria told them.

Henry crossed his arms and glowered “Don’t listen to her, Aunt Kathleen is a simpleton”

Aria gasped. “That’s improper Henry, we’re not supposed to say that word,” she scolded.

“She’s right,” Henry added and leaned back on the footboard. “But so is he Aria, mages aren’t cursed.” Bryce being the eldest of them, seem to always take the middle ground when his two younger siblings would argue. 

Henry bounced on the bed. “Yeah!” he shouted, Bryce immediately hushed him. “So you’re different, doesn’t mean you’re not cursed, sister. And if anyone says so, you tell me and I’ll break their teeth!”

Aria giggled but quickly silenced herself when she heard chatter on the other side of her door ‘Gregory, she’s my daughter’ it sounded like her father.

‘She’s also a mage, and she most likely doesn’t know how to control her powers’ argued her cousin. That wasn’t true. Aria could control it. But Gavin was being to mean to Alice.

‘If you don’t let me see her Gregory, I’ll tell your mother what you did in the tavern’ she heard next. A few moments later she heard a latch unlock and she quickly pointed to her closet for her brothers to hide.

“Aria, I’m coming in” her father said before he entered. He smiled at the sight of her sitting on her bed. “How are you feeling?” he asked and left the door open as he said her would.

Her father approached her and sat next to her. “I am, I’m just waiting for dinner” she replied. He said nothing in turn and stroked her hair gently, and she could tell he was sad because whenever they visited their mother, he’d have the same look on his face. “I’m not scared Father.” 

She was almost nine. She wasn’t a baby anymore. She was brave, just like her mother used to be.

And her father smiled proudly at that before the closet grunted and she knew he heard. “Boys, a word” he said sternly and rose from the bed. Slowly, her closet door opened and her brother emerged with heads lowered in shame. “You’re not supposed to be here” said their father, using his Bann Trevelyan voice. He spoke like that when he addresses the citizens, or acquainted lords, but when it came to them, he’d use it for scolding.

Henry looked up first. “Aunt Kathleen said Aria was cursed,” he blurted out.

“Henry!” Bryce scolded.

He glared at his older brother and averted his gaze sideways “It’s true,” he mumbled.

Their father looked behind him and patted his daughter’s head. “You’re not cursed, you’re just...gifted.”

“That’s what we told her,” Henry added, Bryce hushed him quickly.

“Come here boys” their father commanded, and they walked towards the bed. “You’re not cursed Aria,” he repeated “just gifted.”

The next morning, right after breakfast— in her room, not the dining hall, the Templars arrived with their horses. Nana had packed her bags the night before, but she wasn’t allowed to bring anything, not even the clothes she wore that morning. She had to dress in dark green robes. It wasn’t even a pretty one. There were three Templars that came to fetch her, and when she hugged her father goodbye one of them had stopped her from doing so. 

“Let her be John,” the tall one with the dark hair said.

“But Sir Wilton—“

“You did the same thing to your wife before you left, and you’ll be seeing her next month” he interrupted. Sir Wilton looked at her with his dark brown eyes “Let her have this” Aria hugged her father, but he hugged her tighter.

Then her father crouched to her level and swept the strands of her that fell to her face “Remember Aria, no matter what anyone says, and no matter how many times they say it. You’re a Trevelyan, and you are my daughter.”

Step-mother didn’t think so. She was smiling. She nodded and held her tears. Trevelyan women do not show tears. “I promise” she replied as he kissed her forehead. Next was her brother, they didn’t say much but when they hugged her they snuck something into her hand… a chain of some sort. 

They finally left, and travelled for the Ostwick Circle. She’s never been so far from home.

As the horses were taking a break, Aria took the item out of her pocket and took a look. It was a pocket watch, with the Trevelyan with their Heraldry on the cover “Hide it well” she almost dropped the watch at the sudden voice. Sir Wilton approached her, the metal of his armor clinked with every step “Mages aren’t allowed to carry personal effects after they’ve entered the Circle” Aria held the watch behind her back. 

She tightened her grip around the watch, her hands were too small to hide it. “You can’t have it,” she spat.

He only smiled. “My name is Wilton Ryall, you are?”

“Aria” she replied.

He smiled at her warmly, unlike his two companions “Well Aria, won’t you trust me with that watch just until after they’ve checked?”

And with that, Aria knew in her all her 9 years of life, that Sir Wilton Ryall was not an enemy of mages.

#

“ Absolutely not!” Cassandra shouted. Her voice thundered menacingly within the four corners of her cabin. “Have you lost your mind?!”

Aria nudged Dorian with her elbow knowing he had the perfect remark for her. “Cassandra,” Aria began, “lower your voice, I understand your caution, bit this is necessary.”

She glared. “Have you two taken a moment to analyze your request?” she asked. “Experimenting on your mark is too risky, what if something goes wrong? Aria, you’re the only one who has a chance to close the breach.”

“Which is exactly we need to get it right,” Dorian interjected.

She crossed her arms. “How do you even plan to go about this?” 

“We have some thoughts on that,” Aria answered.

Dorian grinned. “I can assure you, they’re pretty thoughts. Like jewels. We’ve done the research, Seeker,  and not just by using the books you have in that so-called library.”

“This is ridiculous,” she grumbled.

Dorian rolled his eyes. “Magic, as pretty as it looks isn’t achieved just because we look pretty waving our hands about. There are methods, there are processes, and even technique in disrupting the natural flow of energies from the veil into the physical world.” He held out the notebook in his hand, “See for yourself if you’d like,” he insisted.

Cassandra did not take it and shook her head. “How do you know it will even work?”

“We  _ don’t _ ,” Dorian replied, “That’s why we want to conduct an experiment.”

“The answer is no,” Cassandra said.

Dorian let out a low growl. “Pouring a tremendous amount of magic into an unknown mark, that’s what people might call insane. Ensuring that it’s done properly makes it  _ less  _ insane.” 

“Marginally,” Aria murmured. She sighed and placed a hand on her fellow mage’s shoulder, signalling him to allow her to talk to them. “Good luck, then,” he told her before exiting her cabin.

“You have to let us do this,” she told them. “Solas is well-informed with matters of the fade, Vivienne didn’t get to where she is just because she’s good at The Game, and Dorian,” she sighed, “The man helped develop time-travelling magic.”

“Yes, and we nearly lost you to it!” Cassandra countered.

Aria nodded her head slowly. “That’s true, but it just goes to show that he’s no ordinary talent. They’re our best shot in mitigating worse case scenarios.”

“He worries me the most,” Cassandra said. “We barely know anything about him, he is from Tevinter how do we know his methods are even safe? How do we even know we can trust someone like him to side with us?”

Aria’s levelled Cassandra’s gaze with a piercing glare. “Be  _ very  _ careful about what you’d like to say next,” her tone had grown grim, “I have great respect for you but you weren’t there when Redcliffe castle was painted with blood and demons.” 

“That may be so but--”

“Have I proven myself so unreliable that I cannot vouch for a man’s character?” Crossing her arms, she continued, “Listen to me, all this talk about my safety is all well and good, but in the end, it will be me up there having  _ direct  _ contact with the breach.” She released a breath and the tension in her shoulders eased. “If there’s another explosion, I don’t think Andraste will pull me out the second time.”

There was a pause, an uncomfortably long pause where the only sound that Cassandra sighed, setting her hands down on the table. “There will be templars any time you wish to conduct an experiment, and you will keep us all updated.”

“That’s a given,” she scoffed.

“There will be a full evaluation before and after the experiments.”

“Experiments require full documentation.”

“The templars have authority to stop the experiments, should they see fit.”

She shrugged. “I feel that’s a bit negotiable--”

“There are no exceptions to any of the rules,” Cassandra straightened and closed the distance between them until she was half a step away. “Don’t try bending them either, are we clear Aria.” 

Aria beamed up at her. “Straight as an arrow, Seeker. You have my word.”

Cassandra acknowledged this with a grunt, before stalking off. 

#

“I spoke with our suppliers, Lady Trevelyan,” Josephine told Aria who sat in front of her desk. “Additional crates of lyrium should arrive here in the morning.”

And with that, Aria is reminded of Leliana’s eye for the competent. “I see, that’s rather quick.”

Josephine didn’t bother hiding her triumphant smile. “I had faith you would be able to convince Lady Cassandra so I went ahead and made arrangements.”

Aria rested her cheek on her hand. “Why, thank you. Now,” she said, leaning back to cross her legs. “You said there was a problem with negotiations with my family?”

“All things considered, the allegiance with the Trevelyan’s is going well,” she said. “Your aunt Kathleen, is quite adamant in her position, however.”

She chuckled and sat on one of the chairs by the table. “Yeah, I know. It was a personal risk of mine to pit you against her. I thought perhaps you could soften her, no matter how small.”

“I’m sorry for not meeting your expectations,” Josephine replied with a frown.

Aria shook her head, “No, please, don’t be. I don’t think that woman will ever get over her profound hatred for me.”

“Not even if you were Andraste’s chosen?” she asked.

Aria’s eyebrows rose in surprise and intrigue, “You don’t really believe I’m Andraste’s chosen, do you?” she asked. “We’ve discussed this before. I’m just doing what I think is right, I leave it up to the people to decide that.”

There was a small sigh that left Josephine’s lips, although the answer was satisfactory, not everyone thought the same. “Be that as it may, it’s a shame that your aunt couldn’t be persuaded.”

“She’s my step-mother’s sister, you see. And I am proof of my father’s infidelity. Her hatred grew after my half-sister was born, and she found out that her daughter will be promised less, despite being a legitimate child.”

Three knocks at the door sounded. “Josephine, I--” Aria turned on her chair to see the Commander, “Herald! My apologies, I didn’t mean to interrupt.”

“Not at all, it’s hardly an important matter,” she said. Josephine frowned as she motioned for Cullen to enter.

“I thought this might be helpful for you,” Cullen said. He made his way across the room and stood next to the Ambassador to show her a report.

“Where did you get this information?” Josephine asked, clearly delighted.

“Our soldiers came across the caravans and according to Leliana, they’re not ordinary ones.”

Josephine smiled and set the report aside. “I’m grateful, but it’s good you’re here. I spoke to Chancellor Roderick,” she began. Aria stifled a chuckle at the Commander’s exasperated expression. “Could you  _ try _ not to antagonize him?”

He crossed his arms over his chest. “If I offend the man so much, perhaps he should try leaving  _ me  _ alone.”

“I agree with the Commander on that one,” Aria interjected. “He could at least leave me alone while I’m helping the healers make poultices. They’re not difficult to make, but they do require a bit of accuracy and focus.”

“The Chancellor is an important leader to the chantry clerics here,” Josephine reminded, “We must cooperate with one another.”

Aria and Cullen shared a look. “Very well,” she yielded before rising from her seat.“I’ll leave you two to discuss your seemingly false caravans, but Josephine,” she said. “The matter with Kathleen is simple really, but Free Marchers,” she shook her head, “I’m afraid we hold fast to our grudges.”

“What do you suggest we do about it?”

She shrugged. “If you think her connections are worthy of the effort, then go ahead.”

Josephine pursed her lips. “It’s poor manners of mine to have never asked, but are you comfortable with such an arrangement?”

Aria drew in a deep breath before crossing her arms. “No,” she answered. “I hate that woman. An illness came over me as a child, the healers, for the longest time couldn’t figure out what it was.” Her eyes narrowed, jaw tight and her nose flared. “That woman stood beside my bed while she thought I slept and asked the Maker to let the sickness take me.”

“I’m sorry Herald, I shouldn’t have pried.”

“I’m not comfortable with it, but as we are now, we can’t exactly afford the luxury of declining promising allies,” Aria answered. “I don’t particularly like speaking of these matters so just do whatever will benefit the Inquisition.”


End file.
